Unexpected Valor
by Sarmatian-Warrioress
Summary: The knights come to a small village called Aldrogen, set on staying as long as a wounded Galahad needs to recover. But as events unfold, more reasons become evident that they stay, determined to protect the people. One stands out amongst many. DagonetXOC.
1. A Sighting

**Disclaimer: dont own.**

**A/N: the knights have been fighting for 12 years now.**

Aldrogen, a small village on the edge of a thick woods, set beside a gently flowing stream, a few leagues from the stronghold of Hadrian's Wall. A quaint place, a quiet place, inhabited by no more than 30 people, aging from very young to very old. Simple people. But amongst them, another lives, strong, fierce, courageous, ready to throw down her life to save those who have shown her so much kindness and caring.

Alerica Olan squinted her eyes against the rising light of dawn and frowned a little. Another day, simple like the others but also restless, safety resting on the edge of a knife. Sitting upon the wooden rooftop of a stable, Alerica could easily see the woods to her right, an ominous place where few ventured, fearing the attack of Woads, and in front of her, rolling green hills stretched endlessly on. The wide Trona River flowed along her left side, bridge set over it so that any could travel easily across. Any day now, she was expecting to see legions of Saxons marching over a hilltop, a hoard of death.

Alerica had often dreamt such a nightmare, waking her suddenly from sleep, drenched in a cold sweat. It had done so that very night, and weary, Alerica rose from her bed, dressed quietly, and climbed the ladder to the loft in the stable before slipping easily up the rafters to the hatch leading to the roof. Often she came here to watch the sunrise and set, gathering and sorting through her thoughts.

With the suns rays just peaking over the far hills, Alerica heard the first stirrings of the villagers, starting their daily chores, repeated day after day after day. Her only job was to keep watch of their borders, scouting at times, making sure no enemies were to threaten their peaceful lives. But if such a thing were to happen, she would make sure every being was safe before she would draw her weapons, fighting to defend them. She was willing to give her life to protect the village and it's inhabitants, every last one of them.

A sound snapped her from her thoughts and Alerica stood, squinting her eyes as she gazed far across the horizon. She could hear horses, but wasn't entirely sure how many or what direction they were coming from. The whinnies and neighs echoed off the forest's thick trees, playing a trick upon her senses. Seven figures on horseback appeared over a hilltop and Alerica forced her eyes to see far, determining friend from foe.

Seven horses, seven men. One rode somewhat hunched over in his saddle, faltering as his horse galloped towards their village. All were armed and armored, headed straight for Aldrogen. A particularly Roman chest plate caught Alerica's attention and she smirked lightly. A Roman posed no threat to the village, nor did six more, if that was indeed the others heritage. Though Alerica thought of Romans as nothing more than overly showy, rich cowards, she would allow the presence of some in their small village.

Smirking lightly, Alerica opened the roof's hatch and slipped inside, climbing nimbly down the rafters before sliding down the ladder. Dennan, the stable master, jumped at her sudden presence then softened with a smile once he realized who it was. "Good morning, Alerica. Did you sleep well?"

She smiled gently. "Well enough, my friend. Is Redik up? I must speak with him."

"Eh?" Dennan paused. "I believe I saw him stirring in his home. Why? Is something wrong?"

Alerica shook her head. "Nothing for you to worry of. I believe we will have visitors soon though. Make sure at least seven stalls are clear and clean." Dennan nodded slowly and watched her as she left the stable.

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A/N: got a bit discouraged with how little notice The Flame of a Warrioress recieved, especially in reviews, so i got a bit turned off it. decided to make a new story, been thinking for a few days, and wrote 3 chapters today. might rewrite 3rd chp tho, it seems a bit unlikely. anyway, you know the drill: read & review!


	2. First Impressions Can Be Muddy

**Disclaimer: dont own.**

"Alerica." The village leader spoke, after his fright at her silent appearance wore off. His faintly wrinkled face looked slightly more haggard than usual, a clear sign he hadn't slept well that night, probably haunted by the same dreams Alerica had. His simple appearance of short brown hair, dark brown eyes, and clothes of earthy colored, worn cloth seemed somewhat dimmer and grayer than usual.

"Redik," Alerica mumbled. "I have news." His eyes shot to her, fear darting in the depths, as he feared the worst all at once.

"Woads or Saxons?" he croaked. Alerica took the few steps forward that closed the gap between them and placed a hand gently on his shoulder.

"Calm yourself, old friend." She gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, feeling him relax slightly. "We are not under attack. I came merely to tell you of approaching horsemen. Seven, armed and armored. I believe at least one to be Roman, and another perhaps injured."

Redik nodded. "I shall meet them when they arrive. Now go, Im sure Melini has something she wishes you to do." He smiled softly as Alerica nodded and removed her grasp from him, disappearing out the door into the growing daylight.

* * *

A squeal of laughter pealed through the village and Alerica darted between the buildings, running from the two little monsters that chased her. Slipping past a woman hanging her laundry to dry, she headed towards the edge of the village, hoping to loose them over the bridge.

However, the sudden appearance of seven men on horses had her digging her heals into the ground, trying to come to a quick stop. She slipped in the mud that covered the ground and fell with a thud onto her back, only sliding to a stop before the men. Looking up, she stared at the men, frowning at the amused looks on their faces. One snickered and she let out an exasperated sigh, letting her head fall back in the mud. How embarrassing.

"Are you alright?" a strong voice asked. Taking a second to catch her breath, Alerica stood, shaking some of the mud off her hands. Feeling a weight missing from her back, she turned back the way she came, spotting the small boy and girl that had been chasing her. They were hiding behind a building's corner, peaking around at the men on the horses, eyes wide with wonder.

Alerica sighed again and mumbled, "Im fine…" Spotting what was missing, she grabbed the single-bladed, 4-foot-long handled axe from the mud and frowned a little as she whipped a thumb over its curved edge.

Arthur looked over the girl who stood in the mud. She had made quite an entrance; it had amused all of his knights, even the injured Galahad. She seemed tall for a woman, and appeared to be in her late 20s. Her body, thin but curved gently, was clothed in worn brown leather breeches, knee-high leather boots, and a sleeveless brown tunic of cloth with a hood that hid most of her head. Her clothing was very muddy, her pale arms splashed with wet earth. Despite that, Tristan could see a few black lines of a tattoo on her right arm, starting from the back of her hand, up to her shoulder, and disappeared beneath her tunic.

Turning back towards them, Arthur noticed the black bangs that brushed her cheeks, her fierce golden-brown eyes, and the scowl that tugged at the corner of her lips. "You are the men I saw approaching earlier," she muttered. With a slick movement, she slipped the axe into the sling that wrapped around her torso and set each hand on the hilt of a 2-foot long dagger sheathed at her waist on a belt. Tristan caught sight of another tattoo, also covered by mud, on the back of her left hand, small enough that it was set just above the juncture of her thumb and pointer finger.

The clearing of a man's throat caused her to look over her shoulder at the two men who had approached silently. He smiled lightly, just barely holding back his laughter, and murmured, "Alerica…. You seem to have made quite the first impression." The man beside him snickered.

She drew her lips back and snarled lightly. "You're one to talk, Redik…" Stepping towards him, she whipped the back of her hand on his arm, smearing mud on his tunic just to annoy him. Looking towards the two children, she let out a small growl and chased after them, making them squeal with laughter as they went.

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A/N: dunno how i feel about this story yet, might take me some time to like it. i did like the way she is first seen by the knights tho. makes me laugh cause its something i would do. anyway, as always, R&R! please!


	3. Drink The Night Away

**Disclaimer: still dont own.**

By the fall of night, Arthur and his knights had been settled with their own quarters, Galahad's wounds had been attended to and was now resting, and while Arthur spoke with Redik privately, his other five knights were drinking at the tavern. They spoke quietly amongst themselves, well aware of the stares and whispers of the villagers in the dwelling.

Not long after they had settled at a worn table near a back corner, the woman they had seen at their first arrival entered the tavern, now clean of mud. She looked about before setting her eyes on them, watching carefully for a moment before walking to the bar, sharing words with a large woman who stood behind it, whipping a mug with a rag. The woman grinned and filled a mug with ale, handing it to her. She emptied it easily and took a deep breath, setting her shoulders straight.

Turning, she strode over to their table and stopped, crossing her arms. Tristan could clearly see the tattoo on her right arm and traced its detail with his eyes. It was a bird's wing, feathers done with such beautiful detail that it almost looked real. Such a large and long tattoo, covering so much skin over the top of her whole arm, he had no doubt it hurt greatly when she had it done. Though the pale skin of her arms was scarred here and there, no scar seemed to mar the tattoo.

She faltered a little under their stern gazes, but sucked in a deep breath and spoke calmly. "Sarmatian knights of Artorius Castus, it is indeed an honor to have your immortal selves in the small village of Aldrogen. I can only assume that if your friend hadn't been injured and you were in need of shelter, you never would have known of this place."

Lancelot smirked. "Immortal? Hardly."

She smirked back. "By what I have heard of your fighting skills, immortal seemed to be the only word I could use to describe all of you."

"I think you would do better to refer to us by our names, lest others think of us as gods," Gawain said as a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"It would help if I even knew your names." She raised an eyebrow.

"Im Gawain," spoke the one with a golden mane of hair. "This is Tristan and Bors," he gestured to a man with dark hair and tattoos upon his cheeks, and a burly man with hair cropped close to his head, gulping down a mug of ale. "And Lancelot and Dagonet." The last two, a man with curly dark hair and twin swords upon his back, and a strong, quiet man with hair cropped close to his head and a cruel scar upon the left side of his face, just barely missing his eye.

She bowed her head out of respect and smiled. "Alerica Olan."

"Alerica? Quite an exotic name," commented Lancelot.

Her sharp eyes shot to him and she smirked. "No more exotic as your own. It is a strong Sarmatian name, just as yours."

"Oi! You're Sarmatian, too?" Bors laughed heartily when she nodded.

"What would a Sarmatian such as you be doing here, deep behind Briton's borders?" spoke Tristan stoically. She turned her eyes to him, watching him for a moment before uncrossing her arms and plopped down on the bench beside Gawain.

"It's a long story," she mumbled, "And a rather sad one at that. I don't think it is a tale to tell at this time. Come, drink. Lynana! More ale!"

"Here here!" bellowed Bors and held up his empty mug. The large woman that Alerica spoke to before grabbed a clay pitcher and slipped between the tables, stopping at her side.

"More, lass?" she filled a mug and set it on the table before her before refilling the knight's cups. "You makin' new friends?"

Pink touched Alerica's cheeks and she sent a playful glare at the older woman. "Hush Lynana. Don't start with that nonsense again." The woman laughed and turned, moving back to the bar.

Alerica talked and laughed with the knights most of the knights, drinking her fair share of ale. She found that Lancelot, Gawain, and Bors each had quite a sense of humor, loving to laugh and make others laugh. Tristan spoke sparingly, only chuckling every once in awhile. Dagonet spoke less than Tristan, drinking quietly. Alerica found herself staring at him every once in awhile, trying to figure out the sadness etched into his eyes, only to look quickly away when he caught her watching.

It was a long night, one Alerica would remember forever.

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A/N: didnt much care for this when i first read over it. but i think i do like it now. its simple enough. a tad unlikely she would become friends with the knights so suddenly. seems as if im moving a bit fast in this story. hm. oh well. give me your opinion. flames are welcome. i can warm my hands by them. lol. R&R please!


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